God Help Me.....

but I might as well confess that I LIKE NASCAR. There. I said it out loud, as it were. My brother has long been a fan. Every year, the Daytona 500 is run on his birthday weekend. Next year, the 50th anniversary of the race, it will be run ON his birthday on February 17. There is always a big party at his house. We watch all the pre-race coverage and have a drawing where everyone chips in a couple bucks and we pick a driver's name out of one of Mark's NASCAR caps. If you've got the winning driver, you get the pot. There's food and drink, and we watch the race. We critique both the performance of "The Star Spangled Banner" and the delivery of the words "Gentlemen, start your engines!" My sister in law is never going to live down the year that she inadvertently hit the mute button as those words were delivered. The commercials that air during the Daytona 500 are probably second only to those aired during the Superbowl. And they're usually funnier, if not quite so glitzy.

Anyhow, whenever we are at my brother's house on a Sunday afternoon during race season, NASCAR is there on the TV and the satellite radio by the grill. My dad likes NASCAR, too, and it was always on at his house on Sunday afternoon after dinner. Before long, I found myself actually taking an interest. Listening to discussions of things like lines on the track and pit strategies. Actually starting to really see what was happening on the track beside the non-NASCAR fan's observation that it is nothing but "left turn, left turn".

To those who've never watched, you may never quite understand what it is about the sport that's fascinating. I find it admirable that these guys run at speeds approaching 200 miles an hour with an average of 6" between them and another car. Either in front of them, behind them or beside them. Or some combination of all of the above. Those tracks that look so flat from the Goodyear blimp's coverage are often steeply banked. The average temperature inside the cars is 130 degrees. That's before you put on the flame-retardant jumpsuit and the helmet. The races usually last about 4 hours. That's a long time to be in such a hot environment. Without power steering and cruise control. Drivers have to listen to their spotters in the helmet's radio and still focus on what's actually happening around them on the track. They have to talk to their crew chief about how the car is driving and track conditions. And remain alert enough to steer into those sharply banked turns and around and through wrecks and debris on the track. It's an admirable accomplishment to coordinate all that, and I'm actually kind of amazed that there aren't more wrecks on any given Sunday. And that things don't often get more serious than someone "getting a little loose" and a couple guys "trading paint". I find it comically endearing that anyone who is interviewed, from driver to crew chief to spotter to the guy that is responsible for tightening the lug nuts knows to work the name of the car's chief sponsor and the team owner into any interview. And you want to know why companies sponsor cars? It's the cheapest TV advertising they'll ever get when all is said and done. Get a top driver in your corner and it's a sure bet that your name is in front of everyone watching for four solid hours of TV time and even the announcers in the booth are saying your name. As is typical of many Southerners (and NASCAR was started by southern boys), NASCAR has come along way by letting us all think they're dumb with that Southern drawl and generally polite manner.

And since I'm confessing, I like Tony Stewart. I want a Number 20 Home Depot hat, and a long-sleeved t-shirt and a hoodie sweatshirt. I'd put a bumpersticker on the Saturn. I really would. I don't even look good in orange! I can't entirely explain this phenomenon. But I think what I like about the guy is that, as a friend put it, "he's had his bite of the apple and no one, not Home Depot or NASCAR, is going to hold him hostage because of it." He lets us see him being a jerk or getting well and truly pissed about something and he also lets us see that hometown boy made good when he climbs the fence and kisses the ground at the Indy track. And if he ever gets the boot from Home Depot or his team, he'll drive something somewhere for somebody. Yeah, he's a competitor, but he's still having fun with it all.

So does it show that it is my day off and that it is too hot to do laundry? No posts for a month and now TWO in one day!

For Julia

As my friend, Julia, has pointed out, I have shamefully neglected updating this blog. So I am going to remedy that.

First, the only animal I've really spoken with lately has been Dogzilla. If you don't count that cute little Jack Russell-ish looking puppy that lives on the second floor. Who was with her "mommy" on a leash going out for a walk when I came home. "Mommy" was talking on the phone, but I said hello to puppy girl, who got all excited, wagging her tail and squirming. "Mommy" apparently decided that since I must not be a dog-hater, that she'd let the leash go so the puppy could come over to me. Puppy rolled over for me, still wagging her stubby little tail and wriggling around, so I could rub her belly for a little. After a few minutes, I picked up her lead and handed her back off to "Mommy". Who was still on the cell phone. Sheesh.

Anyhow, most of Dogzilla's and my conversations have revolved around my promise to keep it our little secret that he doesn't even pretend to have an interest in things like bunny rabbits, stray kitties and the occasional fox. For fear he will be kicked out of his breed for non-beagle like behavior. I think the dear old boy has decided that all that furor over the aforementioned bunnies, kitties and foxes is a young dog's game. Seriously. I've held him up to the neighbor girl's bunny hutches, containing actual LIVE rabbits. Nothing. I've walked him across the street behind the pizza shop, where they put out food for the two adorable little tabby-ish looking stray cats. He's been within 6 inches of them, and looked them right in the eye and returned to sniffing the ground. Then there was the fox. I took him out for a post-Sunday dinner stroll around the yard a few weeks ago. Towards the back of Dad's property is a brier patch, and I noticed some kind of animal sitting there grooming and sunning itself. I knew it wasn't a stray cat because the shape of it, even at a slight distance, was wrong. Ditto for it not being a groundhog. We started walking towards it, at which time it stood up and slinked into the brier patch. The reddish color and big pointy ears made sense when I saw that brushy tail and realized it was a fox. Trotted Dogzilla over to the spot where the fox had been sitting and he noticed nothing. Not even an extra curious sniff of the ground. Mighty hunting beagle he is clearly not!

Let's see what else has happened since my last post.....the Great Abdominal Abscess Incident came to an end just about a month after it began. Interestingly enough, I saw the same doctor at my last visit to the urgent care as I did for the first one. He was really surprised to see I was still coming in. Usually, these things heal up in a couple of weeks, but he and I allowed that this one had been extremely large. At any rate, he removed the final bit of packing in the incision and determined that it was time to let the darn thing finish healing minus any further packing. After a couple days I was mercifully able to shower like a normal person, which meant I could do things like color my hair again and shave my legs without a half hour production being involved. I have an inch long light purplish scar where the incision was, and I am apparently permanently dented in the area where the infection was. Other than that, everything has healed up quite nicely. It did take a very long time to finally manage to wash every towel, sheet and piece of clothing I own, but that coincided with a long stint of dog-sitting for my friend Lisa, who has a very nice washer and dryer at her condo.

I had a birthday in July. I am now 49. Thanks to scheduling, I actually had the day off on my birthday, which was quite nice. I celebrated quietly, which seems to be my preferred was to celebrate these days.

I've gotten a renewed interest in cooking here lately. I've discovered that sea scallops are my "go to" quick fix meal. I just sprinkle them with a mix of salt, pepper and ground toasted cumin seeds or maybe some of Emeril's "BAM!" (aka "essence" if you watch Chef Lagasse on a regular basis), and put them in a very hot skillet to sear about 2-3 minutes per side. With a nice salad, they make a 10 minute meal.

I seem to have also acquired an interest in cocktails, what with this hot, humid summer we've been having. One of my newest drinks involves putting a couple small scoops of a nice tropical sorbet, like mango or passion fruit, in a champagne flute and then pouring prosecco or asti over it. It's very refreshing. I also mix lime juice, pomegranate juice, a little sugar, some fresh mint and rum in my little cocktail shaker (I got it on clearance for about $2 when we got rid of our seasonal summer stuff), give it a good shake and pour it over ice in a nice glass and add just a splash of sparkling water for what I call my pomegranate mojito. I put peach nectar, triple sec and inexpensive but fruity Riesling (I like Hogue Riesling and that Schmidt Sonne brand in the blue bottle) with ice in my cocktail shaker, give it a good shake and then pour it into a large wineglass that contains slices of nectarine (the peaches at the store usually have no taste) , oranges, lime and some white grapes. A splash of sparkling water (orange flavor is nice but not necessary) and I have a white sangria wine spritzer. Again, very refreshing.

Not much else is going on. The clusterfuck that IS our store's remodel continues. We are all mostly hanging on to the belief that it will all be over with by the end of October. Just in time for fourth quarter and the holidays. Oh joy.

Dad is well, as is my brother and his family. My niece, Nicole and her s.o. Genry (pronounced "Henry"), got a house near where Nicole works, which is exciting. Especially, I think, for my brother and sister-in-law, since Nicole, Genry and baby Isabella are no longer residing in the basement. My nephew Zak's girlfriend, Sarah, is moving into the apartments across the street from my dad, so I expect we will see much more of Zak and Sarah. Dogzilla will be thrilled that there are new people to spoil him. Because he isn't nearly spoiled enough with just me coming up every couple weeks to walk him, feed him treats and hoist him into the king-sized bed next to "Daddy".

I've lost about 50 pounds since last August, maybe a little more. Mind you, I'm still not a small person by any stretch of the imagination, but I am smaller. And seemingly getting even smaller. There are pants that I really, really can't wear to work any more for fear they will drop right off me. That's how I gauge where I'm at mostly. By the way clothes fit. I can't button them yet, but I can at least get size 20's on my person. So that's my next goal. To get them zipped!

That's pretty much life in a nutshell. A rather BIG nutshell, but a nutshell. I'll try to do better with keeping this blog up to speed. Lest I forget something!